


Trust

by xantissa



Series: Bleeding Skies [7]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wutai War, Zack crosses invisible line with Sephiroth and both of them have to deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

He was so tired he barely saw the road ahead of him, so tired even the constant boom-kaboom of the siege cannons wasn’t much more than vague sounds on the edge of his awareness. After pulling an over sixty hour shift, even his mako enhanced body couldn’t go on any more. He needed food and sleep, but right now he was much too tired to even think about eating. So sleep it was.

Briefly he hesitated between the semi-permanent structures that housed officers. He’d had the rank of Commander for a week now, which granted him separate quarters. It was a relief not to bunk with the other SOLDIERS. But the image of Johnson’s face as he skewered him with his sword from behind, the stunned, betrayed look as the man died on his blade was still haunting him. The other two were easier somehow; he didn’t really know those SOLDIERS. Only Johnson, the guy who would play poker with him into the wee hours of the morning when everything became just too much…

Zack tasted salt and copper in his mouth, he must have bitten his lip again, but his eyes kept ringing with Johnson’s voice, the broken whisper of “Zack?” that wrenched at his very soul. Zack closed his eyes, his hands curling into fists so tight that his fingers turned bloodless.

Damn it all to hell, damn this whole war, this nation and Shinra himself to the very pits of Hell.

He warned Johnson, warned him that defectors were killed before they had the time to reach the enemy and spill their secrets. If Zack had to weigh the good of a thousand soldiers against one individual... well the choice was clear.

Feeling nauseous again, he leaned on the wooden wall, desperately trying to forget how Johnson’s blood felt on his hands as it dripped from his blade, praying that the sound of the cannon’s bombardment would drown the constant echo of Johnson’s betrayed voice from his ears.

And to think he was so proud of his promotion, so sure it was going to bring him one step closer to his goal. He snorted quietly to himself. Now he understood why Sephiroth looked so distant, so damn foreign to him on that day, even though they have been sharing a bed and more for over a month already. The man had known, had realized what Zack didn’t then.

He wondered, how many friends had Sephiroth to kill already? Was that why that man kept so much to himself, refusing to let anybody close?

In the end there was only one place for him, one place where he hoped the nightmares wouldn’t get a grip on him.

The General’s quarters was the only solid building in the camp, a former temple converted into meeting room and personal rooms for Sephiroth. The guards on duty were long used to him coming and going at oddest hours of day and night. Sephiroth didn’t even try to keep their relationship hidden and no one was suicidal enough to actually comment on it. It was a secret everybody knew, but this was a war and it didn’t really matter who slept with whom, when you could be dead by the next morning.

Zack wasn’t even trying to be quiet. He stumbled on weary legs into the bedroom and started stripping, eyes barely focusing on the large figure slumbering under thin sheets. For a brief moment Zack wondered why his lover hadn’t woken up yet, but he was just too damn tired to care right then. He only needed sleep.

Naked, still grimy but not caring about it he crawled into bed and nudged Sephiroth to move. The man sighed in his sleep but shifted to allow Zack to curl into his side. Surrounded by the familiar scent of sweat and mako, all screaming to his senses of power and strength, Zack fell asleep quickly and quietly.

He woke up to the faint sense of danger that had been trained into him by the months spent in Wutai. Still groggy and sleepy he opened his eyes, only to realize he was still in the general’s bed. What could possibly be threatening him here?

Still confused he turned his head towards the rest of the room and stilled.

Sephiroth was up already. Dressed in his trademark black leather pants, open black shirt framing that impossibly toned chest and hair loose and soft around his shoulders, he sat in the single armchair and watched Zack. His face was blank however. Eyes cold and hard, face and body betraying nothing, he sat like an emperor with his hands resting on the armrests and the Masamune lying on the floor, in easy reach.

His lover was at his most dangerous when this cold and somehow it was directed at him this time.

“Seph?” He asked confused, still a little groggy.

“I didn’t hear you come in last night.” The words were very carefully worded, tone flat and even, it made Zack’s stomach roll with queasiness. 

“It was late. You were asleep.” 

And it hit him then, like a proverbial truck. 

Seph didn’t wake up.

Subconsciously he had to have accepted Zack, trusted him.

Seph always woke up. He trusted nobody.

Zack sat up, finding it hard to think lying down where his exhausted body kept pulling him back into sleep.

Sephiroth didn’t move, didn’t tense, his expression didn’t change, but Zack could feel the change in the man’s aura. The readiness to move, the sheer potential in him suddenly spiked. It occurred to him right then, with an odd kind of clarity, that the silver-haired man was panicking, was feeling enough off balance to classify Zack as a threat. And once that classification was made, the general would eliminate him. Right now, naked and tired, still sore from battle, chest aching with a kind of pain that he wasn’t sure was physical, Zack had to fight for his life. Somehow he crossed the invisible line with Sephiroth and now, to rid himself of confusion the general was truly considering killing him.

Oddly enough, this thought didn’t hurt how Zack expected it to. It just made him sad. Sad for the boy the general never was, a boy that lived in such a strict environment that any kind of change or emotional closeness was considered a threat.

It was a battle, just like the battlefield outside of this building, and Zack had to plan his movements well or face the consequences.

He looked at his lover, so still and distant he could as well be a stranger. Beautiful, powerful stranger that held so much more of Zack’s soul than he could ever expect. Zack was in love, has been for the longest time, but he never know that love could be this much, this absolute and total feeling that encompassed his whole being. It didn’t really matter what he had to do outside of this walls, who he had to kill, if he could maybe lessen the burden for this man.

Easily and quietly he slid to his knees, letting the sheets fall from his body and expose him, all too aware of the balance of power. Sephiroth, completely dressed and seated in his armchair, him naked and crawling on the floor. Sephiroth did not move, his expression didn’t change but his catlike eyes followed Zack with a kind of intensity usually reserved for enemies.

Fearlessly, because no matter how this ended Zack knew Sephiroth needed him, the SOLDIER crawled closer on hands and knees, until he was between the general’s legs.

Slowly, making sure to telegraph only softness and trust and all those things Zack felt but could not say to the man that had no use of those words, he pressed himself closer. Slowly, Zack seated himself on the floor, pressing his head to one muscular thigh that was so tense it felt like pure steel under his cheek. He closed his eyes, letting his messy hair fall all over them both and sighed.

“I’m cold, Seph.”

It wasn’t a lie. He was cold, even though the room was warm enough and the mako in his body should keep him from feeling the temperature. He was cold from the very bottom of his being, this senseless war sucking his very soul away. It was a risk, to be this close to a man that usually hated physical contact outside of sex and even then merely tolerated it.

Zack knew the general needed him to be more human, to see and feel all the things he missed because of Hojo. However, Zack needed him too. Without Sephiroth, there would be nothing to hold him together.

It seemed like small eternity, silence and stillness stretching around them like a blanket. There were no words from Sephiroth, but the man rarely talked anyway. The thigh under his cheek was still tense and ready for action but it was also warm.

Still slowly, Zack raised his arms and put them around his lovers hips, trying to press himself as close to that familiar, powerful body as possible, accepting whatever decision Seph would make. In the end it had to be his lover’s decision to let him in, or push him away.

It took a long time, but eventually a large, gloved hand came to rest on his head. Not stroking, just resting there, warm and powerful. Familiar. Comfortable. A symbol.

It took surprisingly short time for him to fall asleep again.

The End.  
2009


End file.
